Take out the trash!
by NajikaKitsawa
Summary: Ok, let me just warn everyone that this is the result of a combined brain fart between my brother and me while we played Dragonball Z. Budokai Tenkaichi 2… We were bored… We were feeling very random… and this is what came out! .


_**I AM THE PRINCE OF ALL SAIYANS!!!!**_

(Ok, let me just warn everyone that this is the result of a combined brain fart between my brother and me while we played Dragonball Z. Budokai Tenkaichi 2… We were bored… We were feeling very random… and this is what came out! ^.^)

It was a lovely day in planet earth. No evil beings had threatened the 'peaceful' planet in almost a week and the Z-fighters were happily enjoying their vacations… that is, all of them except for one. Sitting in his living room, with his arms crossed and an irate expression on his face that seemed eternally plastered onto his face was a brooding Vegeta.

The short-tempered, shorter than average, brawl-loving prince of Saiyans, contrary to all his friends, detested times of peace and at the moment found himself wishing one of two things: either that a new evil, of almost unsurpassable strength, attacked earth so that he, Vegeta-prince-of-all-Saiyans, could defeat it and prove once and for all his superiority over all the other Z-fighters (especially Goku- or 'that idiot Kakarot' as Vegeta often referred to his fellow Saiyan); or that he could go back to his 'glory days' as a prince, lead a powerful army of loyal Saiyan soldiers, and bring about the conquest (destruction) of planet earth.

Alas for the cranky pipsqueak- _hem, hem_- Vegeta, neither of his dreams would ever come true.

While Vegeta brooded, his wife, the scientist Bulma, arrived from getting the groceries. The woman set the overflowing, brown paper bags on the countertop and stared somewhat angrily at the still full kitchen trash can, thinking that she'd specifically asked Vegeta to take out the trash earlier in the morning.

"Vegeta," she called from the kitchen.

He answered with a grunt from the other room.

"Please take out the trash."

Another grunt was all he answered and Bulma set to putting away the groceries. Still, her husband did not come to fetch the garbage bag, not even after she was done putting everything away and had sat, clicking her nails against the breakfast table, and launching irritated glares at the trash can.

"Vegeta," Bulma called again, "didn't you hear me asking you to take out the trash?"

_Grunt, grunt, grunt,_ was his answer again.

Her left eye twitching, the woman pushed herself up and stormed into the living room. "Vegeta, damn it, take out the trash already!"

"Make me."

"Say what?" she bent over, looking down at him. "You take out the trash right now, mister!"

"Ha! I am the prince of all Saiyans- you, woman, cannot order me around! And so, I will not take out the trash! You take it out!"

Bulma rolled her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, thinking: _Oh dear God, not this shit again… _"Vegeta, just take out the trash I asked you to take out two and a half hours ago and then you can go back to your brooding and grunting and being an angry little emo."

"I am the prince of all Saiyans, and I will not tolerate your insolent mouth, nor will I take orders from _you_! Now, leave my side and my living room! This is Vegeta territory!"

"It's my house, you idiot, and because I'm the one paying the bills, you are supposed to be doing the housework, so take out the goddamn trash already!"

Vegeta glared at her and jumped up from the sofa (not that it did much of a difference considering his wife was still several inches above eye level). "If only we were back in the mighty Saiyan planet! You would not dare speak to me with such a tone, Bulma! Why, if only I could muster a powerful Saiyan army, how this puny planet would tremble and quake under my presence! Mwahahaha! That's it! I, Vegeta- the prince of all Saiyans- will once and for all claim my rightful place as ruler of every, and any, living Saiyan, and thus lead them (my mighty army) onto war with earth, conquest it and I shall finally reign supreme over my very own planet Vegeta! Mwahahaha! Mwahahaha!"

"What army, you twerp?!" Bulma poked Vegeta's forehead. "Here's you effing army: Goku- the stronger than you idiot who would not harm a fly (unless said fly somehow managed to kill someone); Gohan-the teenage boob running after Hercule's very angry daughter; Trunks- your delinquent, soon to be on the F.B.I.'s top 10 most wanted criminals, son; and Goten, the idiotic pet monkey/ sidekick to your delinquent child!"

**Meanwhile**: Somewhere, soaring through the skies, many, many miles away, Trunks and Goten, while joy-riding a stolen car, sneezed. Goten looked at his best friend, the purple haired evil genius who'd somehow managed to highjack Master Rochi's new convertible. _Hmmm…_ Goten thought,_ maybe mom is right… Maybe Trunks __**is**__ a bad influence… Nah…. He's too cool for that. Weeeeee! _

**Back in Bulma and Vegeta's household: **

"Why, yes," Bulma continued sarcastically, "we will all pee our pants in fear of those four boobs! Now," she pulled Vegeta's left ear, "take-out-the-fucking-trash! Or you're sleeping on the lumpy, basement couch!"

He glared at her.

She glared at him.

They glared at each other.

Several minutes elapsed.

Then there was a loud crash, and a round hooded, red convertible crashed in through the ceiling. Bulma and Vegeta looked up to see Master Rochi's new car hanging through the ceiling (second story floor), and a pair of giggling, dizzy looking half Saiyans: Goten and Trunks. "Trunks!" Bulma cried. "Dear Lord, are you two alright?!"

"A-O.k.!" they giggled.

"Good," she exhaled calmly… then exploded: "Why you two are in SO MUCH TROUBLE!!! Goten, you march straight home right now! I will call your mother- Trunks, you go to your room THIS INSTANT!!!"

"But… mom… technically I am in my room… we kind of crashed the car through my closet…"

"Uh, bye!" Goten fled out the gap on the wall.

"Trunks-!" Bulma screamed, but Vegeta interrupted her: "That's my boy! I always knew the old Saiyan destruction blood ran through you!"

"Don't condone him! Besides, you are in a lot of trouble yourself- Take out the trash already!"

"No. Trunks can take it out."

"Hey!" the boy complained.

Bulma: "You take it out!"

"Make me," Vegeta challenged her…

This next scene, one much too violent for words will not be described. I should just like to say that Trunks cowered under the debris, his right eye twitching, and that for the next year he suffered of P.D.S.D.

In the end, cowering under the murderous glare, one of the spouses crawled out the door, dragging the black garbage bag and whimpering the words: "Yes, sweetheart. Anything for you, sweetheart. I love you, sweetheart."

Bulma sighed contently, crossing her arms. "See Vegeta? Isn't this nice?"

"Yes, dear. Yes, yes, yes. Anything you say dear."


End file.
